


An Accomplice

by Flirtimus_Prime



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Brainstorm is only there as an accomplice to sin tbh, Eggpreg, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Oviposition, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, he might come up later, i guess maybe since it’s like he’s getting eggs put in him, optimus is just a minor distraction, ovipos, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-16 15:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flirtimus_Prime/pseuds/Flirtimus_Prime
Summary: Jazz wants to spice things up with Prowl, he’s getting bored with the same old toys in the bedroom, so he talks Brainstorm into letting him try something new he made— for science!





	1. It Starts With A Clutch

**Author's Note:**

> There is definitely oviposition in this, I’m telling you now if you don’t like eggs don’t read this man. If you’re here because of eggs! Well I hope this meets expectations, it’s the first ovipos I’ve ever written.

Jazz wasn’t afraid of trying new things. New missions, new guns, new upgrades. New toys. It was all part of that thrill seeking nature, the need for speed, or perhaps in this case, the need for something more exciting than a spike, a valve, and some variant on a vibrator. He’d finally talked (see: bribed) Brainstorm into letting him in on some of his prototype toys for the promise of sweet, sweet data. After a brief visit with Brainstorm and a discussion about how to even use the toy, Jazz was on his way back to his quarters with a discreet box in his subspace and one hell of a poorly hidden grin. He closed the door behind himself and locked it, a red light appearing on the keypad as he unsubspaced the box. Inside was a set of eggs, meant to react with transfluids to swell, and eventually leave the body naturally. Brainstorm was pretty confident in this design, he said they should come out sometime the next day after insertion. Easy enough. But Brainstorm also said they were best used with two people, one to carry and one to supply transfluid.

Jazz pinged Prowl, inspecting one of the eggs for himself. It fit comfortably in his hand, and was about half the size of his fist. His partner picked up the commlink. ::_ Prowl. _:: Came the formal answer, leaving jazz to roll his optics and smirk at the thought of how undone his uptight cop would be soon. 

::_ Ay copbot, you busy? _:: His tone was casual, if not a little chipper.

::_ Always _.:: Prowl replied suspiciously. 

Jazz allowed his voice to drop almost an octave, ::_ And how busy is that? _:: And with such a tone he smiled wider at the delay in response. 

::_ Give me time to finish this set of forms and I’ll be available. _ :: Prowl hung up at that, and Jazz could only smile in victory, tossing the egg back into the box and taking it with him to his bedroom. Those would be for later. He sent a quick message, just so Prowl wouldn’t get cold feet. :: _ I got somethin’ new to try out, I think you’ll have a lot of fun. _:: 

The thought of it, of Prowl walking out of his room with a bit of his plating stretched from the eggs he was about to stuff into him was exciting enough for his vents to flare open and his fans to kick up. The thought of him getting more stretched out over time-- He had to stop thinking about it. Jazz bit his lip and shook his head to himself, wandering out into his sitting area in his habsuite to turn on some music.

\---

Prowl would never admit such frivolous things, but he was barely skimming through the standard paperwork he was finishing up in hopes of getting through faster. Whatever Jazz had planned was bound to be something… Exciting to say the least. That tone of voice was reserved for more intimate settings, and the fact that Jazz was using it to entice him out of his work-- rather effectively-- was indicative that the porche wanted attention and soon. And Prowl was more than eager to comply, _ as soon as his duties were done _. He finished reading the paper and signed it off haphazardly before he finally could call work done for the day. He abruptly stood from his desk and made it out his door before he ran into Optimus, just outside his office. “Prowl, I have some more datapads for you to review, I would appreciate if these could be finished within the next three days.” Optimus requested, easily handing over a small stack of five datapads. Prowl took the tablets with all the stoicism of someone who wasn’t in a rush to go across base to get their processor fragged out. “Understood.” He answered, stepping back into his office to put the datapads on the table. They were due in three days, they could wait. But when he turned, Optimus was still standing in the doorway expectantly. 

“Stopping for some energon, Prowl?” He asked in a friendly tone, and Prowl grit his denta before he turned and was back to his usual self.

“No. I was going to meet with Jazz for important business. Please excuse me.” His tone was serious and it felt wrong to be half-lying to his boss and leader, but at the same time, he didn’t feel like making small talk with his boss and leader when there was a pool of heat in his tanks quickly moving down, and the memory replaying in his head of Jazz’s tone and the implications it hid was not helping. Optimus only nodded and moved on his way to the rec room, only stopping after a couple steps. “Prowl, as important as it is that you work, understand it is just as important to have time for leisure.” Optimus commented, and only after Prowl looked at him to nod did he continue on his way. 

With his back to Optimus, only after he turned the corner did he dare to let himself look like he was in any hurry. He transformed and sped down the hallway with his engine already beginning to run hot towards Jazz’s quarters, and when he was there, he rang twice. He could hear music playing through the door, and if Jazz didn’t answer soon he would try to comm him. While Prowl was an exceedingly self controlled mech in some aspects, there were some aspects that he was okay with letting go of. The door slid open, and there stood Jazz with the best terrible grin Prowl had seen in weeks. “Hey Prowler, come on in.” The speedster said easily, moving out of the doorway and waving his guest in with his other hand. Prowl stepped in, and the door slid closed behind him with a hiss that he knew should be here, but was inaudible under the music. 

“So I was talkin’ with Brainstorm the other day--” Jazz began as Prowl made a leisurely pace deeper into the habsuite. He’d been here more times than he could count. “-- And I talked to him about lettin’ us in on some new things he’s makin, like some new toys.” At this, Prowl looked at Jazz with a skepticism he usually reserved for Brainstorm. “Now before you gimme that look, I wouldn’t try anything I didn’t think you’d like.” Jazz stepped to close the space between them, placing his hands on Prowl’s sides. Prowl looked down at Jazz with an unwavering expression. It wasn’t easily held though, as Jazz looked at him through that visor, mischief in his optics. “I know how bored you get at your desk all day… Thought I’d ask for somethin’ that could make your day a bit more fun, eh?” 

Prowl raised an optic ridge, but his interest was piqued when Jazz had admitted that his partner was in mind when he’d asked for the toys. Jazz continued-- “Don’t worry, it’s got nothing to do with me bein’ nearby for it to work, it works all on its own while I’m away.” He all but purred, and slid his hands to the front of Prowl’s frame, allowing his servos to follow transformation seams that made the cop shudder, and his optics darken. “You’ll be all filled up for the day and if ya like em maybe I can talk ‘Stormy into lettin’ us keep em.” Jazz murmured against Prowl’s neck cables, kissing them after. Prowl, as much as he liked the attention, grabbed one of Jazz’s hands and pulled it away from where it was teasing sensitive transformation seams. 

“What are they?” He asked, his voice betraying his mood from the static inlaid in it. His partner grinned widely. “Eggs. Fake ones, they go in, sit for a hot minute, and come out on their own, all the fun, and no bitlets after.” He muttered in low tones, a voice just for Prowl, and Prowl drank it in like it was the sweetest high grade. It made him burn in the best ways. He released Jazz’s hand and instead put his hands on Jazz, running them over his slender frame, across sensitive plating and dipping further still to find carefully hidden sensory nodes. Jazz’s engine purred deliciously, and Prowl smirked at the reaction. He did love how sensitive the transformation seams around Jazz’s hips were. Jazz hummed a content note and kissed along Prowl’s neck cables, encouraged by Prowl’s fans spinning high in response. 

The cop car could feel heat already beginning to take his frame, his valve becoming slick behind its covering, and he could feel a thrill run through himself when Jazz forcefully pulled their hips together, the friction of their codpieces making charge crawl over his frame in lazy waves. Prowl help back a sound, bracing himself against Jazz now, who looked about ready to ravish his partner as he was. Prowl, however, was much less patient. “You’re teasing.” He growled, or tried, but it came out almost like a whine. Jazz pulled back from where he’d been peppering kisses over his partner’s vulnerable energon lines and frame to look at his face, before lilting, “Y’need somethin’ Prowler?” 

“I need you to quit being so smug about all this.” He remarked with not nearly enough bite.

But in response Jazz revved his engine. “What can I say, ya got me all worked up. You’re so beautiful, Prowler. I want my hands all over ya.” And to this, Prowl shuddered again, heat washing over him at such praise. With the cover of music and the door being locked, he allowed himself to lose some of his composure, grabbing Jazz by the face and kissing him hard. Jazz kissed back in earnest, grabbing Prowl by the hips and stepping backwards towards his berthroom. Prowl followed, half stumbling, but Jazz kept him steady. Prowl opened his mouth to vent, and Jazz pushed his glossa into his partner’s mouth, realizing belatedly that both of their fans had kicked on full speed. Soon, the back of Jazz’s knees bet the berth, and he smiled into the kiss, turning them so that Prowl would fall onto the berth. 

  
  
Prowl fell back, and looked up at Jazz, at how he looked at him with a dark lust from under his visor. Finally, Jazz took his visor off and Prowl couldn’t help the excited sound he stifled at such an intense look on Jazz’s face. Jazz let a smile play over his lips, and he ran his fingertips over Prowl’s thighs, up towards the seams at his hips. “You’re already so hot, Prowl, were you thinkin’ about somethin’ like this?” Jazz murmured, leaning over his partner, and pressing against him. “Were you dreaming ‘bout the day I filled you up?” 

Prowl’s face flushed with heat, and he opened his mouth to reply, but an undignified sound followed as Jazz traced his servo firmly over Prowl’s valve cover. Prowl grabbed at the sheets above his head. “You know, Prowler… You look mighty fine spread out like this,” He allowed his voice to drop a half-octave. “But you’d look even better like this--” Jazz hooked his hands under Prowl’s knees and spread his legs, taking a knee at the foot of the berth so that he was face level with Prowl’s interface panel. Prowl covered his mouth to try and mask his expression, optics dim while he bit his lip and Jazz pulled his partner closer to have his thighs around his head. 

“Would ya’ open for me, Doll?” Jazz mused, swirling a finger over his partner’s valve covering. With a soft click, the panel was drawn back and Jazz kissed Prowl’s thigh, ever closer to the seams at his hips. Prowl fidgeted on the bed, vents open. His fans whined as Jazz kissed his anterior node.

The view Jazz had was enough to get the heat pooling low in his abdomen to spread, his spike becoming uncomfortable in its housing. Prowl’s valve was plump, with soft mesh that was already wet and eager to be filled. Jazz bit his lip, then kissed Prowl’s anterior node once more just to watch him squirm before he ran his tongue over the pliant mesh of his valve. Prowl gripped at the bedding and his legs quivered. He’d been wanting to be ravished-- to be able to let go for some time. And to know that Jazz had another treat up his sleeve… As Jazz dipped his glossa into Prowl’s valve, Prowl let out a staticky groan. Jazz almost wanted to let out a sound of his own at how gorgeous Prowl sounded, and he drew more sounds from his partner as he gave his attention to suckling on Prowl’s anterior node, pressing two fingers into his valve. Prowl cried out when Jazz curled his fingers against sensitive nodes, and arched his back when his partner teased his anterior node. 

Prowl’s valve clenched around Jazz’s fingers, as if trying to draw him in, and Jazz scissored his fingers to see how well Prowl would stretch. He kissed his partner’s inner thigh as he inserted a third finger and worked them in an out. Prowl keened at the stretch, muffled behind his hand. Jazz moved so that he would be positioned over Prowl, and grabbed the hand covering up those precious sounds so he could intertwine their fingers. Prowl looked into Jazz’s optics and bit his lip. Jazz couldn’t help it, and his interface panel snapped open, his spike fully pressurising. Prowl shuddered as Jazz pressed his fingers deeply into his valve, curling so that his fingers would get delicious friction over sensitive interior nodes. Prowl cried out, and gripped the sheets with his free hand, the other clasping Jazz's hand firmly. Jazz withdrew his fingers from Prowl’s valve, and kissed his partner tenderly. The speedster lingered on the kiss, and when he pulled back, Prowl almost let out a whimper. 

“Ya ready to be filled up Prowler? ‘Cause I can’t wait to see you all stretched out.” He murmured, rubbing his hands over Prowl’s abdomen. His partner shifted, moving so that he’d be farther up the berth, and Jazz crawled on after him. He reached over to the bedside table and pulled the box of eggs onto the berth. Prowl looked at the egg now in Jazz’s hand and bit his lip, spreading his legs a little wider. Jazz smiled at this and pressed the egg to his partner’s valve entrance, but not enough for it to go in. Prowl moved his hips in hopes of gaining some of the contact he dearly wished for. 

“Tell me what you need, babe, I wanna hear it.” Jazz hummed, wiggling the egg ever so slightly into his partner’s valve. Prowl lifted his hips, but Jazz quickly put an end to that, letting go of Prowl’s hand to pin him down. “I need-- I need you to…” Prowl tried, caught between trying not to moan at the stretch beginning in his valve and the embarrassment of admitting he was so eager to be stuffed full with these eggs. Jazz’s engine revved, vibrating his frame. “I need you to fill me, Jazz, I want you to… To make me heavy with those eggs.” Prowl said with static in his heady voice. He tried to move his hips again, but was stilled once more as the egg passed his valve lips, giving him a lovely stretch. Prowl let out a drawn out whine. 

  
“You sound so perfect Prowler, I could listen to you all day.” Jazz praised, already grabbing another egg from the box— there were around ten eggs in there and he didn’t expect to use them all, but he could sure try. Before he was about to try and put this egg in his partner’s valve, Jazz wanted to see something. 

He lined up his spike with Prowl’s valve, and pressed the tip inside. His spike was bigger around than the eggs, and his partner arched his back and let out a wanton sound, gripping hard at the sheets. Jazz pressed into tight, wet heat until he felt the tip of his spike nudge the egg, and then further still until he couldn’t press in any more. He wanted to make their hips to touch, but this was something they needed to take slow. Prowl, however, was feeling impatient and wrapped his legs around the speedster, looking him in the optic. He tightened his grip, drawing Jazz in deeper and the egg nudged at his gestation tank. Jazz leaned down to kiss his partner, and began to thrust at a slow rhythm. 

Prowl gripped at Jazz’s frame, tracing over transformation seams as Jazz thrust harder. Prowl let out a at staticky moan as overload crashed into him, and the egg disappeared into his gestation chamber. Jazz pulled out, and pushed another egg into Prowl’s valve, immediately thrusting back into him with a low groan. Prowl cried out again, optics bright with pleasure, and frame sensitive with charge. The eggs had a nice weight to them that he could feel settle in his abdomen, and he was eager for more even as the fourth one was pushed passed his valve lips. He felt so full— and the way Jazz ran his hands over his partner’s middle as he thrust into him, over the flat plating that they both knew would soon be distended and heavy— soon another overload washed over him, his calipers clenching around Jazz’s spike. Before he knew it, there were six of the eggs inside of him. 

It was after he pushed another egg into Prowl that the speedster thrust quickly, their hips slamming together, and overload crashed into him hard. He pressed deeply into Prowl with a loud moan as transfluid flooded into his partner’s gestation chamber. Prowl fell into another overload with him, drawing out the aftershocks and clinging to his partner as staticky moans left him. When the aftershocks subsided, Jazz fell to the side and snuggled in close. The music was still playing in the other room, and it helped them both wind down from the intensity of their last overload. Prowl closed his panel, effectively keeping the transfluid inside and squirmed a bit as Jazz traced his finger over his middle paneling, which was now full with eggs. He was just barely showing, small enough that you almost had to be told about it to notice anything, but to Jazz it was enough to be exciting to look at. 

“How do you feel Prowler?” He asked in a low voice, still tracing circles over the slight bump of his partner’s abdomen. Prowl looked at him listlessly. “Full.” He murmured after a pause. The cop lazily pulled Jazz into a kiss, taking his time to savor it. It was only when Jazz pulled back to vent some air that Prowl laid back and allowed himself to offline his optics. Soon, he was out cold in recharge. Jazz looked at his relaxed face with a fond smile, before getting up to grab some cloths from the washracks connected to his room to clean up. He took one more cursory glance back at Prowl on his berth and couldn’t help the grin that played on his lips. He made quick work of cleaning himself up, and returned with a cloth to clean Prowl up, too. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if the cop came out of recharge with transfluid and lubricant still on his thighs. Jazz carefully ran the cloth over Prowl’s plating, admiring his shape and the warm metal under his hands. He discarded the used cloths by tossing them on the bedside table and laid next to his partner. “Love you, Prowler.” He muttered, before he too, fell into a comfortable recharge.


	2. Promise We'll Do It Again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale we've all been waiting for! Warnings from the first chapter apply. If you don't like Ovipos then get outta here m8

The first thing Prowl noted when coming out of recharge, is that there was soft music playing. He’d stayed in Jazz’s quarters, which wasn’t something he was a stranger to, but it meant he might be late for work. Which was not acceptable. He onlined his optics, and the second thing he noted, was that he felt a bit… Heavier. His processor supplied him with a quick reminder of what he and Jazz had done the night before, and a moment's flash of heat shot through him. Right. He sat up, and looked down to see his plating was slightly stretched, a hardly noticeable curve to his middle. If what Jazz said was accurate, they were going to be due some time throughout the day. He placed a hand on his middle and shuddered in surprise at how sensitive he was. Jazz stirred a little from where he was recharging and onlined his optics soon after. 

“Ay Prowler, you’re lookin’ mighty fine.” He mumbled, looking up at Prowl from where he was laid on the berth. 

Prowl slid his hand down the slight curve of his abdomen and felt himself shudder once more as he noticed how hot his plating was-- how it was especially centered near where the eggs resided within him. Jazz reached up to trace a finger over the edge of one of Prowl’s door wings, coaxing the cops fans to spin, but Prowl got up from the berth instead of allowing himself to lean into such an alluring touch. Jazz made a small displeased sound. “I have work to do.” Prowl insisted, inspecting himself briefly to make sure he was presentable. To anyone who didn’t know, he was maybe a little bigger around than usual, maybe he’d doubled up on certain armors, they might think, but he knew the true reason. He knew that he was just going to get bigger. Jazz scooted to the edge of the berth and leaned forward with an expectant face. Prowl looked over, and leaned down to give Jazz a brief kiss before he went off to work. Jazz, however, was still feeling the mischief from the night before as he flattened his hands over Prowl’s middle and traced the stretched transformation seams. Prowl let out a grunt and deactivated his fans before they could turn back on. “Jazz—“ he scolded, pulling back. “I have to leave.” Prowl secured his omnipresent scowl on his face and left Jazz in his habsuite. 

Walking felt different. He could feel the eggs moving inside of himself, bumping together and somehow, it felt like he was filled with some thick liquid too. The feeling was making it hard to vent— hard to even move without the whole ordeal feeling horridly erotic in his sensitive plating. He was barely down the hall before his valve was already aching to be filled again and lubricant was flooding behind his panel. His processor was caught on many other things, so much so that when Optimus greeted him, he almost didn’t stop to answer. 

“Greetings Prowl.” Optimus tried again. “Are you well?” 

But the cop was so flustered, he tried to speak and nothing came out. He reset his vocalizer and finally blurted out, “Yes, I’m fine.” It was overly clinical, too sharp. Perhaps he could play it off as being in a sour mood. “Please excuse me, I need to grab a cube of energon and then get to work right away.” He tried, ducking passed Optimus towards the rec room. He could feel he was being stared at, but continued to walk with his usual confidence. The more he moved, the more the jostling of eggs got to him, and he was sure that if he didn’t get to his office and sat down soon, he would be too heated to hide. The rec room had few faces, some waved at him or inclined their head respectfully, but thank Primus they made no moves to talk to him. He grabbed a cube of plain mid grade and promptly left, making a beeline for his office. 

Finally in the safety of his private workspace, Prowl allowed his fans to run, his vents opening with a quiet whoosh of air. He sat heavily in his chair and allowed his legs to fall open, leaning back with his hand over his abdomen. He might be imagining, but… was he getting bigger already? He rubbed his hand over distended plating, now more noticeable than before and looking like he was in the early stages of carrying rather than just a little thicker. He traced his servos over the transformation seams along his bump, soothing burning metal but also sending electricity straight to his core. Prowl grunted with interest before picking up his cube of energon and taking a large swig. He wished it was stronger, but he would never be caught drinking high grade while working. It was bad enough that he was doing _ this. _ Whatever _ this _ was. He picked up a data pad and began reading while he fueled up, but his mind was so obviously elsewhere, he caught himself re-reading lines and having to start paragraphs over again because he hadn’t been paying attention to the words, just looking at them. It was frustrating, how fogged his processor was with thoughts of nothing but Jazz pounding into him while he was filled to the brim, begging for it harder while his heavy gut only grew larger— Prowl slammed his now empty cube of energon on his desk and vented some air. He was getting nowhere with this..! Perhaps if he took the liberty of _ one _ overload, it would help clear his processor. _ No! That’s completely unprofessional, _ he scolded himself. But then again not getting any work done because he was too busy thinking about— _ things. _ He sent a signal and locked the door of his office, hesitating. Was he really about to take the time out of work because he couldn’t control his impulses? This was ridiculous! And completely out of the question, what was he thinking? He picked up the data pad once more and tried reading it over, but he didn’t unlock his door, and at this point he was idly rubbing his belly. He managed to repeat this pattern for a solid few hours. Prowl had haphazardly signed a datapad when a buzz at his office door drew him out of his half focus. 

He fixed his seating posture and scooted up to his desk. “Come in.” He called, and the light on the keypad turned green before the door opened. Brainstorm stepped in with some datapads in hand. Prowl felt ice in his tanks, but it didn’t show on his mildly annoyed expression. Brainstorm may have a mask, but his optics told everything. He was grinning like a madman. “What do you need, Brainstorm?” Prowl asked, gesturing to his desk. “As you can see I’m busy, would you make this quick?”

“Oh yeah, of course, I just had a few experiments I wanted to have reviewed for security checks, see if these weapons sounded good, you know. All the legal stuff.” He waved his hand flippantly and placed a stack of three datapads on Prowl’s already busy desk. “But this last one is for you and Jazz. You know, for science.” 

Even though Prowl couldn’t see it, he wanted to punch the smug grin right out of Brainstorm’s voice. He glared daggers at the scientist and held his hand out. Brainstorm unsubspaced one last datapad and handed it to Prowl directly. “Is that all?” Prowl gritted out, frustrated that Brainstorm was here, and that he was still so damned heated, and that with every passing moment he felt blissfully more full. Brainstorm nodded, “Yeah, that’s all, thanks!” With a two finger salute, Brainstorm turned on his heel and left the office entirely more chipper than Prowl would have preferred, but when the door closed after him and the keypad’s red light came on, he found he didn’t have it in himself to stay angry. The cop sat back in his chair and huffed in relief at the release of pressure on his belly, which was now reaching a point of being rounded out. Heat flooded his valve at the sight of himself, stretched out and looking like he was mid-term with multiple sparklings. He ran his hand over his gravid middle, tracing the transformation seams along his new curve, and huffing when his fans kicked on at such a simple action. 

_ So sensitive… _ He thought to himself, feeling along to the bottom of his rounded belly, and though it felt good to soothe his stretched plating there was a wet heat beckoning for his attention more. He rubbed his legs together to try and quell the insufferable desire to touch, but it only made it worse. The cop bit his lip and subdued a groan as his interface panel opened without his prompting and a wash of lubricant gushed from his valve. He spread his legs and looked at the mess he’d made of his chair. He hadn’t even touched yet, and he was already this wet. He reached to try and get some relief, but to his slight horror and definitive frustration, he couldn’t reach enough to finger himself, not around his bump. He tried positioning himself differently, in a way that he could reach at least his anterior node, but no matter what angle he tried, he couldn’t get there. He wasn’t about to comm Jazz, and he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone else know, but he was so distracted-- His whole frame was heated at this point, vents open wide and valve aching to be touched. This wasn’t working. He was going to need another solution, especially if he was going to get back to work at any point today. He gave in and pinged Jazz. 

Jazz picked up shortly after. ::_ Hey Prowler, how ya feel? _:: 

If Prowl remembered properly, Jazz was on a solo scouting mission, but it must have been quiet if Jazz was answering this quick. He checked his chronometer and felt heat race through him. According to scheduling, Jazz should actually be heading back right about now. 

::_ I feel-- _ :: But he cut himself off when his voice came out with heady static. :: _ Slagging frustrated. _:: He gritted out, adjusting to at least be sitting more comfortably. He’d barely reviewed two datapads all day and had done nothing but sit here in a perpetual state of sexual frustration while-- no, because! --the eggs were swelling inside him. 

::_ What’s got you all worked up? _:: Jazz teased, and Prowl wanted to punch the porsche from over the comm. He was not in the mood to be patronized. 

::_ You know exactly what! _ :: He snapped, face heated. Was Jazz really going to make him say it out loud when he was already embarrassed? How humiliating, to be here, trapped in his office because not only was he so heated he couldn’t close his panel, but he was so full he couldn’t even reach his valve to try and relieve himself-- And now he’d gone and called Jazz as if he would have a solution! But the thing is, is that Jazz _ could _ have a solution. 

::_ Tell ya what, Prowler, _:: his partner purred, engine running in the background of the comm. 

::_ I’ll keep ya company the whole way back, and when I get there? We do whatever you want. _:: And that sounded absolutely divine to Prowl. 

::_ Well-- _ :: Prowl huffed a vent of air as he dipped his fingers into the seams at his hips, teasing at wires. :: _ You talk big, don’t get cold pedes now. _:: He nearly growled, static lacing his voice. If he could get even a tactile overload, he might be able to close his panel at least long enough to make it to Jazz’s quarters. Speak of the devil-- he could hear Jazz chuckle on the other end of the line. 

::_ Oh Prowler, you got me feelin’ anything but cold. _::

Prowl bit his lip as he teased at the nodes just beneath his transformation seams, other hand tracing firm circles with his fingertips over his bump. He could swear he was somehow bigger already, his middle having swollen throughout the day from a modest bump to a gravid, heavy belly. 

::_ I can’t wait to see ya babe. To see how big ya got all day while I was gone… _:: Prowl groaned at the charge that ran over his frame, Jazz’s voice spurring him on as he positioned himself now to have a pede rested on his desk and the other on the floor, legs spread in a last ditch effort to gain more pleasure, some friction with purchase. His valve ached still to be stimulated, to be prepared with Jazz’s dexterous fingers, or perhaps better still, to be stretched wide on his partner’s thick spike. When he paid attention, Jazz’s voice was beginning to sound heady with static, and Prowl whimpered to think of him murmuring dirty talk into his audials with such a tone. 

::_ Oh Prowler, ya gotta quit hidin’ all your pretty sounds, I know ya hate it, but I love hearin’ ya whine for me. _ :: Jazz half moaned into the comm, and Prowl ran his hand to the lower side of his gravid belly, feeling the weight of it, how the eggs moved within him and whatever liquid was in there with them sloshing around. Jazz continued, :: _ Slaggit, I’m on my way there Prowler, I’m gonna take good care of ya. I wanna feel you around me, and to kiss ya. _:: Jazz sounded about as desperate as Prowl felt, who was teasing more insistently around his hip seams and the stretched plating on his middle, hyper sensitive and feeling the blissful crawl of energy build on his frame. He groaned, offlining his optics and bringing up images of the night before, and nights before that of Jazz teasing him, kissing along his thighs and hips, until finally he would kiss his anterior node, glossa playing at his valve lips-- The cop shuddered hard and let out another desperate sound as he traced a firm servo along the underside of his bump. Charge crackled over his frame. He was so close..! 

::_ Keep talking. _:: He whined, head thrown back against the back of his chair. Jazz huffed a loud vent of air over the commlink. 

::_ Ya sound so good, when I get my hands on ya, I’m gonna cherish every bit of ya I can reach. I’m gonna kiss your chassis all over, especially your belly, _ :: Jazz’s voice was low and heavy with arousal, and he rumbled at almost a growl. :: _ I can’t wait to see ya. _:: 

Prowl twitched and squirmed as he finally reached overload at the thought of Jazz kissing his neck cables, hands all over him— charge rushed through his frame and he couldn’t help the drawn out, shaky moan that left him, laid think with static. His wet valve clenched on nothing, more lubricants rushing from the aching port. ::_ Oh, Jazz..! _:: He groaned, drawing out the overload as much as possible through teased cables and tracing seams along his middle. His optics flickered online and he looked down. The chair was a mess… 

::_ You’re meeting me at my hab. _ :: Jazz ordered, and Prowl already felt heat replacing what he’d just managed to work off. He closed his interface panel quickly and grabbed a cloth from his subspace. He couldn’t reach between his legs to clean up, but if he moved fast enough surely nobody would see him. :: _ See you there. _:: Prowl said curtly, and hung up the comm. He grunted as he moved to stand, supporting the weight between his legs with both hands. It was almost uncomfortable, how heavy he’d gotten, and if he didn’t know better he might have thought he’d felt a pain just now, near his lower back. He ignored it in favor of cleaning up his chair and then getting out of there to beeline for Jazz’s quarters. He subspaced the cloth and when he went to move in any sort of hurry, he found that that… wasn’t possible. The eggs were too heavy, as a matter of fact, he waddled more than walked. He vented once he got to the door, holding the underside of his belly in one hand, the other braced against the wall. The eggs jostled every time he moved, reigniting the heat at his core and leaving him wondering if he’ll make it to his partner’s quarters. He shuddered again, a quiet grunt leaving him as he adjusted so that he’d have more support for his oversized gut. With one last deep invent to steel himself, he slid the door open and hobbled his way down the hall. 

He used to be stealthy, but now he just looked like a large mech in a hurry. It didn’t matter though, since he was the only one in the hall. Jazz’s door came into view and relief washed over everything else he was feeling. He entered a code into the keypad and stepped inside, and when the door closed he leaned back against it with a loud rush of air as all of his vents opened at once. His valve was slick still from his overload earlier, but now it felt like he was leaking from around his panel. The cop made it over to the berth and sat down in relief, rubbing his hands over his belly and shuddering again. Everything felt lower, somehow, but his processor was too muddled with thoughts of what Jazz was going to do to him when he got there. Like a dream come true, Jazz appeared in the doorway looking much more composed than Prowl could hope to be right now, but that was all undone at the sight of his partner, splayed out on the berth with his legs wide to accommodate the thick curve of where all those eggs had swollen inside him, lubricants covering his inner thighs already, as if he’d spent the whole day self servicing instead of working. Jazz liked that idea, that Prowl was so distracted that he couldn’t get himself to work, he could only try and shove his fingers into his valve. 

Jazz licked his lips and a devious grin spread across his face. He took off his visor and sauntered over to Prowl, who looked up at him with half lidded optics. “Oh Prowler…” He murmured, fans spinning high, and Prowl could have moaned just at that, interface panel opening with another spill of lubricants. He tried to speak, to ask Jazz to do something to him, but it came out incoherent as he reached up to touch his partner. Jazz didn’t need to be told, thought, as he pushed Prowl back onto the berth and caressed his valve. The cop was already so sensitive, but such a delicate touch was certainly not enough. He tried to arch his back, but he only ended up squirming and spreading his legs wider. Jazz grabbed one of Prowl’s thighs and moved it over his shoulder as he got up on the berth completely now, and pressed two fingers into his partner’s tight, wet heat. Prowl keened, the beginnings of new charge crackling lazily over his frame. He gripped hard at the berth, other hand rubbing his belly. He felt so full, but he still wanted more, somehow. The weight of the eggs while he was laid on his back quickly became too much, and he motioned for Jazz to pay attention. 

“Turn me over—“ he blurted out in a burst of static. Jazz was quick to comply, helping Prowl onto his hands and knees and grabbing his hips once he was there, leaning over him. “_ Tell me what you need Prowler. _ ” The speedster murmured into his audial, and Prowl groaned and rocked back to grind against him. “ _ Lemme hear you. _ ” He encouraged, dipping his servos into the grooves of Prowl’s hips, which drew another moan from him. Finally, the cop reset his vocalizer and whined out a heady “ _ Fill me more. _” With a soft click, Jazz’s spike pressurized fully and rubbed along Prowl’s valve, getting slicked in lubricant and twitching at the heat. Prowl was venting with his fans at their highest setting, trembling in his sensitive state. He felt like his plating was on fire, and he didn’t know if Jazz’s touch was making it better or worse. This was exactly what he’d been thinking about all day. 

Jazz eased the tip of his spike just passed the entrance of his partner’s valve, gripping at Prowl’s hips hard. He made himself go slow, starting with shallow thrusts and working his way deeper, all the while, Prowl moved in time, moaning in time with each thrust. When their hips touched, Jazz held there and bit his lip, a low groan leaving him. “Oh, frag, Prowler you feel so good.” He practically breathed out, voice heady with static. The rev of his engine accompanying the next sound he made almost made it a growl. He began thrusting fast, hips slamming into his partner and Prowl cried out. 

The eggs moved inside Prowl’s gut while he was pulled again and again onto Jazz’s thick spike, their hips crashing together in a way the sent shocks up Prowl’s whole frame. He gripped at the sheets and clenched his denta, moaning as heat built up in his core. The cop fell into overload, shaking hard enough that his arms almost gave out beneath him as charge crackled through his frame and whites out his vision. Jazz thrusted through it, moaning loudly at the sensation of Prowl’s calipers clenching down on sensors up and down his spike. Jazz, too fell into overload, holding Prowl’s hips against his own, fully sheathed. He shot transfluids deep into his partner, but then something changed. 

There was a sudden gush of lubricant around the porsche’s spike, too much to be from overload, and Prowl let out a low groan, writhing on the berth. Jazz pulled out and vented heavily, moving to be next to Prowl on the berth with a hand on his back. “Are you..?” The speedster asked, almost concerned. Prowl could only nod his head and let out a sound of discomfort, swaying back and forth a moment and finally finding his words. “I need to move—“ he grunted, and began to adjust so that he’d be in a sitting position. Jazz helped him scoot back along the berth so that he would be propped up against the headboard. Prowl’s face scrunched up as his middle grew tight, and something shifted within him. The cop spread his legs and threw his head back, grasping at nothing for a moment before he found Jazz’s arm, which he gripped hard. A pain he’d never known before seared straight through his core, and he felt pressure deep in his valve. Vaguely, he was aware of Jazz moving from under his hand and replacing it with something else, and he started to protest until he felt firm hands supporting his thighs and tracing comforting circles into the heated plating. He felt a shift inside of himself again, and his plating clamped down. He cried out and felt the egg move into his valve. It was stretching him from the inside out... and it burned viciously. Prowl shook his head in desperation, whimpering at the deep seated burn. His partner made a determined expression, and Prowl felt a kiss pressed to his inner thigh. He tried to squirm, but stilled as the pressure returned, and he had to push. Jazz circled his thumb over Prowl’s anterior node, and the cop cried out as pain began to mingle with pleasure. The egg began to breach, but wouldn’t move farther. Prowl beared down, throwing his head back with fans roaring, as he tried to push it out again. “_ It won’t move..! _” He grit out, gasping as Jazz circled a finger around his valve lips, drawing a shudder from his partner. “It’ll move, you got this.” The porsche encouraged. With Jazz toying at his transformation seams and teasing his valve, the stretch began to feel a lot less like a burn, and instead an insatiable ache. Prowl began to relax, and the egg slid back in. The groan he let out was much less pained, and his valve clenched around the toy, pressing on his inner nodes mercilessly 

He pushed again, and Jazz slipped a finger in around the egg this time, coaxing it to come out. With the combination of pressure, the stimulation of his anterior node-- the stretch of his valve-- Prowl crashed into an overload, staticky moans filling the room as the egg finally popped out with a wet sound. Lubricants flooded out after it, and Prowl only had a moment to vent before another egg dropped from his gestation chamber. The cop went mostly slack for a moment, looking at Jazz with hazy optics. The speedster looked at him for a moment with something in his expression Prowl couldn’t place, before he pressed another kiss to his partner’s inner thigh. Prowl shuddered again, and pushed as the pressure built up once more. He nearly shouted, pleasure thick in his voice as the egg made its way through his valve, deliciously stimulating every hard to reach node, the stretch changed completely from something uncomfortable to something he could crave now. Still sensitive from the aftershocks of overload, every touch felt electric now on his burning chassis. Lubricant leaked from his valve as he pushed again, trying desperately to get this egg out of his oversensitive channel. He realized, belatedly, that Jazz was crooning comforting words. 

“--good Prowler, you’re doing so good.” He praised, running his hand up and down Prowl’s thigh, an affirming touch. Prowl vented some air, and pushed again, groaning at the impossible stretch in his valve before sweet relief. The egg fell from his valve as his calipers clenched at nothing, a fresh spill of lubricant flowing from him. Jazz shuddered, and looked at his partner with dark optics. “Oh Prowler, if you could see yourself…” He mumbled, and he traced a finger around Prowl’s valve entrance again, just enough to tease as he brushed his thumb over the anterior node next. Prowl shuddered intensely enough that he almost closed his legs, but Jazz held them open. The cop ran a hand over his middle, which was already smaller after two eggs, but nowhere near flat yet. More fluids ran from his valve, and the pressure built up again. He pushed, but this felt different. It wouldn’t budge at all. He shook his head, and a rather pathetic whimper left him. 

“Come on sweetspark you can do it.” Jazz encouraged, circling his thumb over Prowl’s anterior node. Prowl groaned as the pressure grew, and he pushed again, and this one stretched him farther. 

“_ Oh-- Frag, Jazz…” _ He cried out, heady with static. “ _ I think… I think this one is bigger. _” He moaned, writhing on the berth. He shuddered hard as the egg barely moved, and he pushed again, straining for even just a little movement. He keened, shaking his head again and falling back against the headboard. Jazz bit his lip then kissed Prowl’s inner thigh near the knee. 

“Come on, you got this…” He murmured, and began to toy with Prowl’s anterior node with more motive. Prowl shuddered, the pressure in his middle too much as an overload crawled over his frame. His valve clenched hard, and he felt the egg move down, and another quickly followed. Prowl couldn’t keep still as the two eggs slowly made their way down his valve, drawing out the overload with each node they crossed. Finally, the large egg breached his valve entrance, stretching him impossibly wide. He let out a high whine, gripping at the berth hard enough he might rip the sheets. One last push and relief flooded him as the egg left him with a wet plop, the smaller egg following effortlessly with a surge of fluids. 

The last three eggs came easily enough, drawing more overloads out of Prowl than he could keep track of. By the time the last egg was dropping into his sore valve, it practically fell out of him with no resistance at all. Jazz praised him with kisses, and a soothing touch over his sore belly, which wasn’t quite flat yet, but almost. It was to be assumed that it would be flat again after Prowl stopped spilling lubricant from his valve. Prowl was exhausted, and it took everything he had to not immediately fall into recharge. Jazz grabbed his hand and kissed across his knuckles, having already taken the eggs and put them into the box with the others to be cleaned and prepared to be used again. “You did so good Prowler, you sounded so good…” He murmured, nuzzling the palm of Prowl’s hand. The cop could only look at Jazz with a halfhearted smirk and mumble. “Next time… It's your turn.” 

Jazz laughed, and let Prowl fall into recharge before he got up to clean up the mess. Prowl wanted to do this again and based off what he saw, Jazz was more than willing to be on the receiving end next time.


End file.
